


i saw you go up in smoke

by missaa



Category: House M.D.
Genre: 2am ficlet, Fluff, Greg House - Freeform, House MD - Freeform, James Wilson - Freeform, Love, M/M, Mentions of Death, PDA, happy fic, kind of sad if you look at it the wrong way, leave their tender moment alone, relationship, theyre in love boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 13:37:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18522637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missaa/pseuds/missaa
Summary: Wilson knows nothing he does will make this moment last forever, but damn it if he’s not going to try.Season 8 finale rewrite.





	i saw you go up in smoke

**Author's Note:**

> ★ prompt credit to ripley (mothdogs on tumblr) ★

 

At first, the light catches the steps at such an angle that Wilson is led to believe the figure in front of him is an apparition. 

 

He stares for too long, trying to disconnect the person sitting outside of his apartment from the person whose death he’d just witnessed less than 48 hours ago. Because this person is very much alive, first-degree burns on his cheek and hands instead of charred, mangled remains lying in a closed casket. And Wilson thinks he’s going to explode if he doesn’t touch him right now. 

 

“Hi,” House says, and it’s the voice Wilson had resigned himself to never hearing again except through the tinny speakers on his phone when he goes through old voicemails, or on ancient college videos, or anywhere else but in person. He swallows, forces himself to stop where he is and shakes his head as if the image will slide away like an Etch-a-Sketch and he’ll still be dying alone. It doesn’t. House is right there. “I’m still alive. Where do you want to go?”

 

Wilson falters in his response. He settles on not answering as he kneels beside the steps and reaches a tentative hand out to brush over House’s fingertips. They’re cold and wonderfully solid beneath his own. “But you were… I  _ saw  _ you die. You were dead.” 

 

House sucks on his bottom lip and nods. “Both dead and not dead,” He shrugs. “In the coffin and out of it. I’m Schrödinger’s House.” 

 

Wilson can’t help but laugh, breathy and exasperated and so very happy. His hand makes the slow climb up House’s arm, feeling the fabric of his jacket and then of his shirt as he places his palm over House’s heart. It’s beating.  _ One, two, one, two, one, two.  _ The heartbeat of a calm and living man. Wilson’s expression is one of disbelief. He was half expecting to feel nothing at all instead. 

 

“Hey. I’m real,” House tells him. His voice takes on a softer note and his brows are starting to creep closer to each other. Maybe it’s his own experience with hallucinations that leads him to say this. Maybe Wilson just looks really starstruck. “I’m  _ here.  _ Scout’s honor.” 

 

“I know,” Wilson says, barely a whisper. He can’t speak any louder but every instinct in him is telling him to scream. “I’m just having a hard time believing it.” His hand moves of its own volition to cup House’s cheek. He skims his thumb across a scrape just under House’s eye. He wants to kiss it better. He wants to do something besides sit here and make a fool of himself. 

 

House reaches up slowly as if Wilson is a bird on the verge of flying away. (Wilson could never leave again; it’s  _ House  _ who’s the flight risk of the two of them now). His fingers encircle Wilson’s wrist and his other hand grips Wilson’s chin. “I’m real,” he repeats, and then his lips are warm and soft against Wilson’s and taste like smoldering ash. 

 

Stubble grazes Wilson’s cheek as House turns his head to get a better angle. Wilson inhales cologne and smoke and exhales it in a desperate noise that gets swallowed up between their lips. It’s tender and easy, feelings Wilson had thought dead and buried with Amber and bulldozed over with his diagnosis. House swipes his tongue over Wilson’s bottom lip and Wilson allows it entrance. They’re kissing in public, and for once, the consequences of something so daring aren’t scary. Laws don’t apply to someone who’s dying and someone who’s already dead. 

 

Wilson knows nothing he does will make this moment last forever, but damn it if he’s not going to try.

 

House is the first to break the kiss. He sits back and his eyelids flutter as if he can’t believe it himself. He smiles for the first time since his second coming. “I couldn’t let you die without knowing how that feels.”

 

Wilson laughs around the tears suddenly threatening to choke him. He makes no effort to stop them from falling. They’re not sad tears, not at all. “Thank God,” He says. “Or else I’d have unfinished business.” 

 

“Just another thing to cross off your bucket list,” House mumbles thickly. He’s still smiling, and it’s easily the most divine thing Wilson has ever seen. “I’m dead, Wilson. How do you wanna spend your last five months?” 

 

Wilson tilts his head up to capture House’s lips in another brief kiss. “I think,” He presses their foreheads together, running one hand through House’s hair and placing the other back over House’s heart.  _ One, two, one, two.  _ Wilson grins. “I want to spend it just like this.” 

 

They’ll have to leave sometime, begin their off-grid adventure before all five months pass by on these steps. But neither of them have ever really been good at facing reality, anyways. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at miisssaa


End file.
